[Forlorn Ascension]|[Rites of Dominion]

by Desrium

Bonus Chapter: A Tale From The Past

The fight fought before Startrot

In the Clutches of Talons
We did not know what they were. We did not know the threat they posed. We paid dearly for our ignorance.

A diminutive creature scampered down the vast hallways with humungous arches of metal. The white lights above were harsh against the silvery, angular surfaces that surrounded it. Various machines and devices protruded from the walls, blinking and flashing.

The surroundings did nothing to help the immense uneasiness the creature felt. Its two skinny legs were trembling in the suit of armor it wore. Said suit was a muted yellow color, almost orange but not quite so. There were small spaces in between the metallic plates that encased its entire body where a rubbery, purple under-suit allowed free range of movement. The creature was a biped, but in spite of its humanoid stance, it looked anything but. Its midsection was incredibly slender and long relative to its shortness, as were its limbs. Its neck was of a medium length, allowing the head to sit a reasonable height above the rest of the body. The creature’s head was encased in a helmet that was elongated to accommodate a short, vaguely saurian snout.

Its trek across the ship’s great length was finally coming to an end. The bulwark that was the doorway to the bridge was in sight. It had a large sphere at the center of it that glowed with a blue light. The small creature stood before the sphere and many beams of light were cast upon it. The orb began to spin in the indentation it rested in and sure enough, the doorway hissed and started to pull apart. When the door opened, the small creature was bestowed with a view of the bridge of the ship; a huge holographic representation of the space just beyond the six feet of incredibly tough hull that completely surrounded the pilot. Currently, the chamber was engulfed in an absolute blackness. Despite this, the navigation machinery was visible: the semicircle of computers and projectors that the Captain sat before in a large ornate chair that completely hid them when viewed from behind, as was the case with the creature in its yellow-orange armor.

“C-Captain…” the small thing stammered nervously at the entrance to the holo-deck with a high pitched, feminine voice.

The large chair swung around. The one that sat in it was the opposite of the crewmember standing in the doorway. This creature was massive not just in comparison to the small specimen, but in comparison to many more burly beings out there among the stars. Its armor was bulky and angular, in contrast to the smooth plating of the visitor. Its limbs were sparingly covered, plating reserved for its elbows and knees. For the most part, the deep blue armor was concentrated on the being’s torso and waist. Its under-suit was a burgundy color. It too was vaguely humanoid in appearance and unlike the small one; it was not wearing a helmet. Its forehead was rounded, but the back of its head was elongated and swept downwards. Its face was flat, the skin a light blue-gray. Its eyes were huge and bulging and unnaturally dark.

“Tween’ara,” the Captain began to say with a powerful female voice befitting of her stature and position. “What is the matter?” she asked.

“I-I received a message of distress from the Magnamus not long ago that… the invaders were detected in the Thymal system… and that the ship has been met with severe aggression…” Tween’ara replied.

“Hmm,” the Captain hummed ponderingly. “Why did you not report this over the communication systems?” she asked.

The little alien practically jumped at the question, squeaking with her wracked nerves. “I’m so sorry!” she apologized promptly. “The news was so grave and- and...!”

The Captain raised a hand, her three fingers spread out and her palm facing Tween’ara. It was a gesture that called for the one being shown it to calm their self… in addition to ceasing whatever it was that made them anxious and unsettled in the first place.

The Captain sympathized with one of the newest additions to her crew. She was incredibly young and her kind was cursed with a uniform dwarfism compared to other species, such as the Captain herself. The fact she was orphaned and rendered aimless in life due to a raid launched by these very same invaders on her homeworld only added to this. She did not blame Tween’ara and had the news been less grave, the Captain would have found her needless journey from one end of the ship to the other amusing. But the news of the enigmatic enemies’ activity overshadowed her good humor. An allied ship was under attack as they spoke!

“Return to your station, Tween’ara,” the Captain said. “I will establish contact with the other ships in the Umpiron Fleet and take action.”

Tween’ara bowed her head to the Captain, arms behind her back, before quickly making her away from the bridge. Be it shame or embarrassment that was the cause, the Captain could not be bothered to discern.

She spun her chair around while the door closed; her back being to it by time the halves came together and sealed her in the chamber of blackness. She held a hand over the instrumentation panel and in an instant, the blackness exploded into much, much more. Windows and tablets made out of various colors of light surrounded the Captain. A star map was floating in front of her, giving her a top-down view of the entire galaxy, the spiral arms turning slowly. To her left and right, numerous holographic ships floated, representing the Umpiron ships that flew in tandem to her’s. They were huge, much larger than her, but even then they were models of the real things, scaled down many times and represented in scaled increments.

“Fellow Umpiron Captains,” she said. One by one, multicolored bordered windows appeared in front of the star map; which were then filled in by holographic busts of the many captains of varying races heading their vessels. “I hope by now the news of the Magnamus’ plight has been received by all of you?”

There were many voices of confirmation that blended into one. Though the report was known to them all, the other captains did not establish council among themselves. It was her job to bring them all as one, as leader of the Umpiron Fleet: the response to the mysterious warmongers disrupting the order of interstellar space.

“Then there are no objections to changing course to lend them aid.” Her tone lacked the inflection of a question.

“Honorable Leader,” one of the captains started to say. He wore a blue and white robe with a collar that bloomed outwards like a flower around his neck. His head was bulbous and chitinous in appearance with no eyes or mouth to be seen. “This new enemy… it has proven itself extremely vicious. From what we know currently, it can be inferred their cells move in large fleets, and these fleets occupy several star systems at once…”

“Your meaning?” The Umpiron Leader inquired.

“My meaning is this: the resources and sheer numbers this… legion has at its disposal does not match what would be expected from a young race that has only made itself known for a few years. We do not know anything about it despite our encounters with its forces.”

“I would have to concur,” another captain chimed in. “I have received reports from other fleets that the enemy is using spacecraft that emulates or even surpasses the quality the Yithith and Xiank construction. Such capability is astounding for such a short time frame.”

“They do not emulate anything,” another said. “I have come across intelligence which suggests these very same enemies are none other than the Hoof-Talons pirate scum that date back much further in galactic history; they have simply stolen the ships of other factions and converted them for their own nefarious uses.”

“A band of pirates does not become a force to rival a galactic empire,” yet another captain commented.

“Nor do they change so drastically that they are nigh unrecognizable.”

“Enough of this,” said the Umpiron Leader. She panned her sights across the projections of her fellow Captains and continued, “We cannot lose ourselves to bickering because of unconfirmed rumors and hearsay. This enemy is a mysterious one; that is for certain. But we will understand it in time, and it will fall under our focused offensive. The key, however, is maintaining that focus.”

There was silence from the council of Captains for a short moment before one of them said: “Our brothers upon the Magnamus suffer while we argue. This cannot be allowed.”

This was met with uniform agreement across the council. The Fleet Leader nodded, and then gave her order.

“Prepare for warp insertion to Thymal!”

***

The Spell-core hummed with surging energy. Four pylons surrounded the magical sphere, rotating around it horizontally in a tubular complex similar to a turbine. Strips of lights ran along the walls, pulses of white running down their length in increasing frequency as the pylons spun ever faster. A prismatic field began to appear around the powerful interstellar engine, concentric rings of all colors gradually appearing in between the pylons; which by then had become one blur surrounding the orb. Watching the process from the large screen at the observation station, the ship’s engineers ensured the warp parameters were nominal.

Over her communications, the Captain heard the report, “Spell-core ready for warp!”

At this moment, captains throughout the fleet were receiving this message. The multitude of ships was coasting through space in a wedge formation, the massive constructs of metal as grand as the undertaking their crew sought to accomplish. Some were nothing more than glorified boxes with huge engines on either side, bulky and functional. Some were sleek and slender, smooth curves defining their aesthetic. They all had colorful hulls, however. Bright, beautiful and valiant colors like red, blue, green, gold and much more; colors which were brilliant regardless of which sun shone upon them. They also bore their insignias proudly: the galaxy illustrated in black with all of its spiral arms and a thick circle enclosing it. A symbol of the Umpiron Fleet’s unity and dedication to defending the galaxy from malice, the insignia was emblazoned on the sides and forward sections of ships throughout the armada. Like the Umpiron, there were other dedicated fleets in the galaxy. They numbered few in terms of factions, but each faction was made out of dozens of spacecraft, each impressive in their own right.

“Engage!” the Captain ordered. Her ship’s engines expelled their exhaust in glowing streams at the tip of the wedge. It pulled ahead slightly before the other ships following initiated their burns in succession. They followed the vessel that diverged halfway down its length into two separate sections ten meters apart, and the length of those two sections comprised the rest of the ship’s size. It had no main view screen of which to speak of, or any other window for that matter. It was a continuous shell of silver and black hull, one of the sleeker varieties of ships the Umpiron collection had to offer.

When the preliminary burn was completed, the ships in the fleet had successfully adjusted their orientation and heading to match that of the Thymal system, a star located in one of the innermost arms of the galaxy.

“Umpiron Qualtraz initiating warp!” The Captain messaged. All at once, the others at the helm of their craft began reporting in. They used the name of the fleet before the name of their ship in their messages.

“Umpiron Unitrax initiating warp!”

“Umpiron Saginarus initiating warp!”

And so it went; ships announcing their readiness to jump while the Qualtraz was shooting off into the vastness with an explosion of energy and color that rippled outwards across the fabric of time and space from the epicenter. One by one the others joined the Fleet Leader until they were all hurtling through the interstellar stream to meet the galactic menace head on.

And one by one in the wake of the Qualtraz, the ships appeared at the edge of the Thymal system, the light created from their warp being brighter than the weak rays of light that came from the blue-white star millions upon millions of miles away. Engines burning hot, the Umpiron Fleet mobilized, breaking off from their formation and fanning out.

“Compiling event data.”

“System mapped. Six planets, two rocky bodies and four gas giants.”

“Densely packed asteroid belt at the inner system.”

The captain sat in her chair, studying the holographs that appeared before her. With a wave of a hand she sorted between them, taking in the information the other ships were gathering.

“Scans complete. Enemy presence confirmed. High level energy signatures concentrated at the inner system.”

The Captain was shown an overhead view of the Thymal system’s orbital plane. The orbits of the planets were represented by white rings that grew ever larger the farther out they were from the star. The planets themselves were circles colored by a gradient determined via proximity to the star, with the nearest being red. The first two were relatively small and separated from the remaining, larger four by a thick purple circle.

Clustered around one rocky planet –the second to be precise- were tiny but numerous red dots. There were so many so close together that they became blotches and blobs, a swarm of ships that surrounded this one planet.

“Where is the Umpiron Magnamus?” the Captain asked.

“The energy signature is weak, but we are still detecting it within the enemy presence… it would appear that the ship was driven to land on the surface…” one captain replied.

“If not shot down…” another said grimly.

The Captain’s expression hardened. She clenched her hands and replied, “Whatever the case may be, we will not leave this system until it is wiped clean of this taint which has befallen it!”

“For the Umpiron Magnamus!”

“For our fallen brothers and sisters!”

“For the galaxy at large!”

The Umpiron ships left the tortured skies of the gas giants to the exhaust of their thrusters. The first one they passed was a cream colored world with bands of light yellow clouds running across it, tossed around by the forces that be. The next was a deep green world with dark blue blemishes that flashed bright with unimaginably fierce lightning storms in the upper atmosphere. The second to last gas giant was red and white with hints of brown in its choking clouds. Gigantic vortexes were visible where the clouds swirled around each other. They were either monstrous tornados that extended down through the many layers of gas and pressure, or nightmarish hurricanes spanning miles in diameter. The innermost gas giant was similar in appearance, though the shades of brown were much more prominent. While lacking the extremes of the previous two planets, its roiling patterns were evident of enormously powerful winds. Furthermore, it was surrounded by immense rings of debris that extended the world’s reach several kilometers into space.

They flew over the great barrier of space rock that conspired to seal off the rocky worlds from the rest of the system. The great shadows of the fleet befell the asteroids before the glare of the engines lit them up again, chasing the shadows from the alcoves, cracks and craters. In the blink of an eye, the dozens of vessels were shapes in the distance, powering on. The light of the thrusters flared out behind them and had there been any observers to watch them go on their way, they would have certainly been blinded by the intensity of the Umpiron ships moving in tandem with one another, marching to battle.

***

Their adversaries were waiting, however. The swarm spread out around the planet, almost obscuring the surface from view. From a distance, the ships were one writhing mass of black and dark gray, with specks of light embedded in a metallic flesh. As the fleet grew closer and closer, the individual ships in the legion became easier to identify. There was nothing stylistic about them other than the red talons that served as their emblem. Plain, blocky and intimidating were the words that described these machines of war. Many of these ships were clearly built around the weapons they boasted, large artillery and energy projectors that had thrusters to move and aim with and a control unit to fire from. The Umpiron Fleet prepped its own array of weaponry as the ships awaited the coming conflict.

“On your mark, Leader,” the Captain heard over her comms. The legion opened fire just then, beginning their assault with a volley of missiles. The rockets advanced like a wall towards the Umpiron spacecraft, rapidly closing the distance.

The Captain eyed the holograms of the drill-headed projectiles coming straight at her evenly and unflinchingly. She issued her command: “Fire direct phase energy weapons!”

From her left and right, and even from above and below, the bright beams fired by neighboring ships flew into the path of the coming explosives. Huge swaths of them went off in dazzling displays of light, causing a chain reaction that spread throughout the volley until it was completely obliterated, leaving bubbles of hot gas to waft in the vacuum of space.

The legion’s next attack was an energy weapon barrage of their own; rays of various colors lashing out at the hulls of the Umpiron ships, the specialized laser mounted attackers unleashing an incredible burst of damage in seconds. Explosions went off where they made contact and sparks jumped from the scorched metal of vessels that were struck. The Qualtraz was shaken by one such hit, one that caused the holo-deck to flicker. “Damage report!” The Captain exclaimed. A few windows appeared around her, one being schematics of the ship with damaged areas tinted yellow and red depending on the severity of the damage. The Captain took in the information while listening to the words of an engineer: “They can hit hard, but we can hold out!”

“They are closing in!” one captain shouted in alarm. The Captain waved the report away and saw the horde of small ships rushing forth from the dark formation, the immediate area overtaken by tiny but innumerable bolts of plasma.

“How many fighter squadrons do they have!?” another asked in disbelief.

“I have a bad feeling that’s only one of them!”

“Out of how many!?”

“Keep calm! The odds are not in our favor but that does not mean defeat is absolute!” The Captain said sternly.

“They have made it too dangerous to fire any heavy ordnance. Establishing point defense zone with laser turrets,” a captain reported.

“Acknowledged; diverting power to laser turrets for point defense,” said another.

Soon enough, a grid of bright beams formed as several Umpiron ships fired in tandem into the mob of fighters, the crisscrossing rays making approach perilous for them. Many slammed into the figurative net the turrets created, fireballs appearing one after the other but regardless of how many they lost, the legion’s numbers remained ridiculously high. Seizing the respite from the storm of plasma fire though, the Captain issued her order.

“Use the heavy weaponry! Break open their formation!”

Missiles arced around the fleet craft, weaving through the ranks trailed by iridescent streams of light. For the moment, the possibility of a warhead being intercepted during launch and dealing a critical blow to a ship was very low. Cyan streaks exploded from the blunt-ended barrels of mounted guns, plasma mortars going off in the midst of the enemy. Bright flashes of light preceded the firing of railguns, the polarized slugs punching through the armored chassis of the enemy ships and rupturing the internal workings of many of them in spectacular fashion. Large spiraling beams of volatile energies were unleashed upon the legion, smaller ships scattering while the less agile ones were overcome by fissures in their hulls and finally exploding with tremendous fury.

By the end of it all, a sizable gap had been left in the wall of enemy spacecraft; burned out fragments of ships floated in the orbit of the blue-green planet below, smoking and simmering. There were cheers across the comm-lines at this strategic victory, and the Captain herself took some pride in how well things were going.

But pride, as they say, comes before the fall. Slamming into the Qualtraz from above, an incredibly powerful pinkish beam scored across its hull, energy crackling along the molten seam it left on the silver and black ship. The Captain groaned and looked to the source of the attack, her eyes widening in surprise.

***

“What is that thing!?” someone cried out.

“It’s a ship!?”

Looming down over the Umpiron assembly was a gargantuan beast of both flesh and machine. Large gun platforms were bound to its sides and limbs. The back of its head sported a tapered, plated crest that ended with a display of spikes. Its crimson eyes glinted as they peered upon the ships like a predator regarding prey. Its serpentine neck lunged for one of the boxy ships while the thrusters attached just behind its shoulders fired up, getting into striking range astonishingly quickly. Its jaws parted and metal teeth flashed when they were exposed to the light of the craft, and seconds later they were plunged into its hull. With a vicious thrash of its head, the cyborg monstrosity tore a chunk of metal out of the ship.

The Captain listened to the panicked orders administered by her colleagues. The others unleashed their arsenal upon it, but the saurian attacker opened its mouth again and let loose the Spell-core beam directly into the stricken ship. A series of rapid detonations went off inside it, puncturing several levels simultaneously and causing the craft to buckle sideways. The cries of the craft’s crew echoed over the Umpiron channel until moments later, when a terrible explosion sheared it in two, the halves spinning away from the pink beam, loose bits of debris flowing out from the destroyed ship.

Then the cyborg swung its head around, scoring the last of the beam along the line of ships that failed to defend their ally before firing a volley of the weapons mounted on its body. Missiles and beams punished the Umpiron ships, flames spilling from those that suffered the brunt of the assault.

“This is bad,” the Captain muttered to herself. She looked at the holograms worriedly, seeing that many of the ships near the Qualtraz were smoldering from the firepower the cyborg creature had at the ready.

“Everyone watch out! Scans show that their first line’s big guns are about to get back online!”

“Damn them! They build big cannons and strap them to a single ship, then create a swarm of fodder to compensate for the down time!”

The Captain’s mind raced as she contemplated what it was that she needed to do. The cyborg was a pressing threat, its guns bearing down on several of her forces at once. Yet at the same time, the blockade of conventional ships was poised to deliver their own devastating rounds.

As if to make a dire situation that much more grave, another one of the outlandish ships made their advance from the formation. This vessel was oddly shaped, broad at the front and narrowing slightly near the rear, the overlapping hull plating making it look vaguely like some kind of trilobite. It had six thrusters, three on each side at the ends of spidery mechanized tendrils that moved with a strange grace.

“Umpiron!” the Captain said at last to rally her fleet, putting an end to the uncertain chattering that was being transmitted over the comms. “Split focus: concentrate your light turrets on the cyborg and fire your heavy weapons into the lines as soon as possible!”

“That thing destroyed one of the most heavily armed ships we had in this fleet in just a few minutes! How can we hope to defeat it with anything short of focusing our main cannons!?” a panicked captain cried out over the comms. “I believe a tactical retreat is in order to assess the threat-!”

“Stand firm!” the Captain said admonishingly. “You turn your thrusters to the enemy and they will simply destroy your engines so that you cannot warp, then your ship will follow suit!” She paused for a moment to let her words sink in while glancing to the many holograms popping up around her to keep tabs on the enemy’s movement. “Fire at my command…”

***

The guns of the Umpiron titans swiveled and locked on to the crested horror.

“FIRE!”

The fleet created a deluge of plasma and laser fire that engulfed the monster. The blasts crashed against the cyborg’s metal plating and dark scale, burning deep into its body. The beast’s jaw opened as if it were issuing a silent bellow of rage and pain, thrashing its head from side to side.

“It’s time for the big booms!” a gruff voice announced over the comm-link. With a gravelly chuckle, the captain pulled its ship in front of the pack, causing many ships to withhold their fire until their line of attack was clear. It was a mammoth of a machine with an emphasis on roundness. No sharp corners, just a curvy outer hull that was a shiny blue color. Every inch of it was covered in plasma throwers fitted to spherical turrets that rotated freely in sockets. At its front was some kind of energy collecting structure: two curved pylons that together looked like an ant’s mandible.

It approached the cyborg; its forward guns unrelenting against the crested horror. The “mandible” structure parted, bolts of electricity jumping across the gap between the weapons. “You think you can just bite an Umpiron ship!? I will show you a bite!”

Alas, as the blue brawler got into strike range, the claws on the monster’s hands started to glow with a field of magical energy. The brawler’s mandibles were closing in on the creature’s neck when they were caught in the cyborg’s grip, the electricity dancing around its wrists.

In one deft motion, the saurian beast raised a leg and slammed its foot into the front of the ship while still holding on to the blades, caving it in with seemingly no effort. The claws on its foot then started to glow as well, which were then dragged downwards, shearing apart the bow of the vessel, which then erupted into blue and green fire when the energy stores powering the mandibles failed.

It tore the blades from their bases, blew the ship away with a volley of missiles and then threw the confiscated weapons toward a cluster of its foes, tumbling end over end and still live with electrifying power.

“We lost the Umpiron Tyrius!”

“Agh! My ship’s been stuck with its energy driver!”

“Mine was grazed by a driver!”

The Captain’s expression was affixed with burning, unyielding concentration. “Keep firing! It cannot resist our combined might for much longer!” the Captain shouted. Victory was at hand! She knew it!

As if in response, the crested horror raised an arm and pointed its glowing talon right at the Qualtraz. On the Captain’s holo-deck, the monster was pointing right at her, its red eyes beckoning her demise. The line of ships behind it, their aim locked and their weapons hot, opened fire. Flurries of superheated projectiles were sent hurtling across the great divide between factions, beams racing to hit their targets true and true.

“Return fire!” The Captain bellowed.

The Umpiron Fleet retaliated with their heavy weaponry and the exchange was chaos. Explosions rippled through the formations of both sides of the conflict, the flaming husks of ships sent fumbling about awkwardly, explosions still ripping apart their structures as they went. Laser passed laser in a thicket of deadly energy.

The assault only came to an end when the giant guns were spent, cooling down and recharging for the next offensive. In the aftermath, slag hung alongside battle scarred giants. The Umpiron Fleet had been shaved down a hefty number. The enemy clearly did not fare any better, as the clumps of burnt metal and broken ships collided with those that survived the torrent.

Yet still the legion remained strong. The horrendous cyborg: damaged and disfigured by the barrage of turrets but still functional; hung in front of the enemy lines like a hellish general with its glowing red eyes shining bright.

It issued another silent roar and with a burst of its jets, went soaring right toward the heart of the remaining Umpiron craft. Like a swarm of locusts that blot out the sun, the dark fighter ships followed, spanning out from the saurian’s left and right.

***

“Point defense procedures!” barked the Captain. “Focus-fire the cyborg-“

“Leader, please!” a desperate voice pleaded. It was not another captain, but Tween’ara over the Qualtraz’s communication system. “They have surprised us with this new unit of their’s and we are sorely unequipped to deal with it! We have to try to retreat now while we still have a chance of surviving this fight!”

“But we are so close!” the Captain replied earnestly.

“Even if you defeat the cyborg, we will still be unable to fight the rest of the ships holding that world to their whim! We have lost so much already but we haven’t even reached the surface to learn what has become of the Magnamus!”

The Captain sat back in her chair, unable to argue that point. It was true; the fight was an uphill one. So many good fighters now found their graves in the vacuum of space, struck down without pity and remorse from this terrible fiend that had set its sights on the galaxy.

The ship rocked as it was pummeled by the fighters making their passes, bombarding what was left of the fleet. The cyborg was undoubtedly tearing yet another ally apart with merciless efficiency. Tween’ara squealed and whimpered at the other end of the line.

As much as she wanted to stay and fight to avenge her fallen battle brothers and sisters, she knew that for the sake of reason she had to fall back now. If they fell back now, the Umpiron’s numbers could be replenished, their ships repaired and their weapons and tactics improved. The information gathered from this disastrous mission could be used to formulate effective attack strategies-

But those upon the Magnamus! Such a crushing defeat would only be worsened knowing that those that were meant to rescue them had to turn away. But it could not be helped. For the good of the fleet, they had to disengage.

“All ships! Prepare to- “ the Captain cried out in shock before she could give the order. An especially bad explosion tossed the ship about. Her cry of surprise was accompanied by several others. Her mouth gaped when she saw what was responsible.

Her holo-deck flickered like mad, the images distorting to the point she could only catch glimpses of the strange plated ship that showed itself earlier. Its hull had been punished in the firefight, but like the cyborg it remained resolute in the battle.

And that was because it was a cyborg. A horrid multi-headed demon infused with the technology of this barely understood menace. Five heads writhed and slithered from the front of the shell-craft, the long necks also protected by overlapping metal plates. The heads themselves were similar to the crested horror, except the snouts were shorter and a few of their metal teeth protruded from the top jaw when the mouth was closed. All ten eyes glared, purple wisps of light wafting out of them like a mist.

At the top of their heads, a strange kind of cannon was mounted. They ended in a sharp point. Coils wrapped around the front of the weapons like the treads on a drill. They created bright flashes of sallow, sickly greenish-yellow light and emanated electrical bolts of matching color.

The effects of being hit with the blasts seemed to be all manner of disruption to a ship’s systems, as evident by the holo-deck’s apparent failure.

The Captain tried to contact the other ships, but fleet communication was unresponsive. She tried to hail her own crew and even tried to call Tween’ara personally, but even those systems were knocked offline. She attempted to redirect her ship and make a break for escape, but she was forced far back into her seat by a tremendous tremor that shook the Qualtraz.

The saurian cyborg, compelled by some vindictive malice, dug its claws into the Qualtraz’s hull. It fired its thrusters at full power, taking the head of the Umpiron Fleet with it and leaving the other ships to the mercy –or lack thereof- of the legion in orbit.

The Captain watched from her crippled seat, the approach of the blue-green world. It grew closer, ever closer. The Qualtraz was taken past the defensive line of the black hulled ships; past the rings of debris lingering in their midst; past the upper reaches of the atmosphere, and soon later the denser region of air a few kilometers below. The ship’s hull started to heat up and peel away, but the crested horror continued to escort its fall from the heavens.

The two massive constructs screamed through the air, waves of heat radiating away from their descent, white streaks forming in the clouds. The land the two approached was hilly and densely packed with trees that reached high into the sky, the leaves being blown by the downward gale they created. Several miles away, the telltale signs of a crash landing were etched into the surface. A huge stretch of the forest was flattened and burning. The soil was dredged up, extending far into the trees. Debris was scattered all around the area, a spread zone that could have covered tens of acres of land.

Just a few miles away was the final resting place of the Magnamus, the stricken ship the Umpiron Fleet came to rescue. Soon, the Qualtraz would join it. The cyborg tore its claws from the ship, but not before pulling up sharply and straightening the craft’s flight profile. The Captain braced for impact, gripping her seat tightly as the canopy neared. The sound of the crash was terrible, groaning metal meeting the snapping of thick tree trunks and branches. Within the next few seconds, the ship smashed into the ground, uprooting a huge swath of the forest. The hull bent inwards with every impact, each tree dealing a crushing blow to the weakened six feet of solid hull plating that the Qualtraz was made out of.

***

Eventually the Captain woke up from unconsciousness, her head pounding. She tapped the gauntlet of her suit and a panel folded away. The screen underneath it, undamaged in spite of the less than stellar landing reported her vital signs. She wasn’t critically wounded. In fact, all things considered, she might as well have been in perfect condition. The cuts and scrapes and a few burns she had on her face was far better than being killed as the holo-deck fell apart. She tapped the gauntlet again and the screen was covered by the returning armor panel.

The Captain unstrapped herself from the seat and stood up somewhat shakily, surveying what became of the Qualtraz’s bridge. The photo-projectors were all destroyed, leaving only the cracked screens lining the walls, dull and gray. A few wires and cables hung from holes in the walls. Aside from the clearly deformed metal that created all manner of strange shapes from the inside, the hull was in good condition. At least it hadn’t been punctured.

She pressed a button at the base of her neck and her suit’s helmet started to assemble itself. With a few clicks and whirs, the Captain’s head was enclosed within a snug helmet. She saw through a circular visor at the front, the color of the strengthened glass as dark as her eyes.

She stamped down on a floor plate near her seat. With a hiss, the plate split and flipped up, revealing a compartment beneath. She reached down and pulled out what was resting inside. At first glance, it was a long shafted, white, black and red weapon that ended in a rectangular block of metal. With a twist of its grip, the yellow-orange energy blade materialized at the block in the shape of a large double-headed scythe. A twist in the opposite direction and the blades retracted, the energy coalescing at the end of the weapon. At this, the Captain held it at waist level, the glowing end pointed in front of her.

“Still works,” she commented to herself. With that, she turned and headed for the door to the chamber. Standing in front of it, she regarded the dim orb for a moment before firing a stream of golden energy from her staff weapon into it. It exploded into crystalline shards that showered down from the indentation and the door slid apart with a metallic screech.

***

She did not even get the chance to step outside before she was shot at. She threw herself into a roll off to the side and took cover behind the wall as soon as she saw the figures in black armor standing there in the dim hallway. Their scarlet shots screamed on past and splattered against the far wall as slag and sparks. What she saw of them for those few split-seconds told her one thing: the enemy was varied.

The armor the group of soldiers wore was clearly separated into types. There were the types that had pointed helmets and the others with more rounded ones that had ear fixtures on the sides of them. There were ones whose forelimbs ended in claws and those whose forelimbs were blunt. There were ones with large wings at their sides and others with smaller ones. There were some with thin tails that looked like wires when wrapped up in armor and the rest with their bulky tail sheaths. The only things that remained the same for both types was the dark red visor that stretched across their helmets, completely opaque and hiding their features; and the jet boosters affixed to their wing armor.

And it was the sound of those jets firing up that got the Captain prepared for what was to come. She activated the blade mode of the staff, the scythes manifesting their presence. With the timing of a seasoned warrior, she swung the blade out just as one of the black figures passed through the door, its own motion slicing it apart.

The Captain pulled the weapon back, rolled away from the wall and prepped her staff for firing mode. She did all this before the soldier’s chopped body even hit the floor of the bridge. The others poured in through the door and the Captain sprinted then threw herself behind her navigation computer. Molten metal and sparks flew from the semicircular array as the blasters mounted on the sides of the soldiers went off, the shots plowing straight through the large machine.

The Captain cursed, popped up from behind her cover, and fired a quick shot in return before breaking off into another run. Sure enough, the blaster fire converged on where she just was, a few narrowly passing her by as she bolted. She jumped and twisted in the air, firing another stream of energy at the enemy as she did before hitting the floor on her back and rolling out of the line of fire.

She sprung up into a crouch and fired burst after burst at the black figures. To her surprise, they broke formation and went airborne with their jets. They rained down their blaster fire on the Captain, who then slammed her staff into the bridge’s plating and pole vaulted into the air. She twisted around, bringing the staff off of the ground and activating its blades.

One of the soldiers had its head chopped off without a spray of blood. The Captain thudded back to the floor and the body tumbled away, the cut in the armor glowing brightly and the flesh underneath scorched black.

“You don’t take well to being cut, do you?” she thought with grim humor.

She quickly readied herself to react to a lunge from one of the alien warriors when, without warning save for a flash of light from the corner of her eye and a distant sound, it was floored. A smoking hole was in its side, the armor of the enemy glowing where the blaster shot hit.

The Captain looked to where the shot had come from. The tiny form of Tween’ara in her damaged armor was seen dashing to the bridge from down the hall, a shrill wail coming from the little fighter. In her hands was a blaster rifle, her finger holding down the trigger and sending speeding orbs of condensed plasma into the bridge.

“Die! Die, every single one of you!” she cried.

The black warriors scrambled out of the line of fire and the Captain charged, swinging her double scythes into the path of two of them. Their bodies fell apart from a diagonal cut, one piece going in one direction and the other piece in another.

Tween’ara stormed into the room, gunning down one more of the invaders, but just as she killed the enemy so quickly, another laid her out to bear with a single shot to the head. The red bolt passed through the front of her helmet and everything beyond in the blink of an eye. Her body tripped over itself mid-run and she toppled into a heap on the floor.

A furious roar came from the Captain as she beared down on Tween’ara’s murderer at speed. She deactivated the scythes in order to smash the block of metal into the soldier’s side, knocking it up into the air. She spun on her heels, extended them again and swung the staff up into the black warrior, slicing it in two as it was falling down. She stood over the slain soldier, roaring still with rising fury and bloodlust for what these horrendous monsters had done.

And just like that, one last shot was fired from behind her. Like Tween’ara, the Captain fell, a molten hole through her head. She thumped against the floor, the staff still clutched in one hand.

***

High above the planet, the black and gold behemoth hung like a celestial crown piece. The ornate golden beak at the front of the massive ship glinted in the world’s dawning hours with the rays of light rising over the curvature of the rocky, ocean covered orb.

Deep within its corridors and inner workings, a soon-to-be emperor sat at his throne, a large, impressive seat. Two orbs of green flames burned over his head, not contained in anything. They were two lamps of ethereal light, simply existing because of his will. The throne rested on a rise in the expansive chamber, a cylindrical structure that was small at the top and large at the base, like a rounded, flat-topped pyramid. His black armored legionaries sat in silence all around him at the bottom level, their eyes affixed to their screens and consoles.

His eyes, of course, were looking at a screen of his own creation. A plane of green fire that flickered and wavered at the edges was suspended in front of him, but in the middle he saw the brilliant destruction of the flagship of one of the new organized resistances mounted against his glorious ascension to greatness. The cybernetic dragon tore it apart, not bothering with the weapons it had mounted on its body. Indulging in its primal nature, it used its claws and jaws to do its work.

“All I had to do was capture one of them… and the rest brought themselves to their execution… the complete destruction of a band of usurpers…”

The image inside the fire shifted to that of the entire galaxy, twinkling with the light of individual stars.

“The first of many,” the chimera said lowly with a wicked glimmer in his blue eyes.

The Rise of the Hoof-Talons